The Laurens Pamphlet
by boxofraindrops
Summary: What are the odds the Gods would have a runaway and a damsel in distress meet at a birthday party? Well, a birthday party and a wedding. Modern-day AU. Lams fluff.
1. 2017, A Summer's Ball

**A/N:** My very first fic in the Hamilton fandom! Modern-day AU where the characters are still in their late teens (or somewhere around there). Soon-to-be lams fluff galore. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter One**

"Cheese!"

Hamilton practically hissed the dairy product through clenched teeth and, promptly three seconds later, did not hesitate to shove Jefferson and his shit-eating grin away from his face after he was sure the picture had been taken, startling Lafayette to his left and sending Madison (on Jefferson's right, the unfortunate victim he had been knocked into) into a coughing fit.

" _Mon dieu_ , Alex, can you not play nice for just _one day_?" Lafayette scolded, but the words fell on deaf ears because the two were at each other's throats again, Hamilton defending himself complaining about how Jefferson's way-too-poofy hair had been blocking his view of the camera and Jefferson claiming that Hamilton's inability to grow into a better height (and while they were on the subject, a better attitude) wasn't his fault.

Had it not been for the several guests (the numbers were steadily increasing) in the adjacent room turning their heads to look over at the ruckus outside, Lafayette probably would have left the two to figure it out for themselves like adults for once, but the chaos was quickly getting out of hand and Lafayette noticed that while the audience could clearly see from their side of the glass, from his friends' side outside of the hall it was not as easy to recognize the transparency due to the still bright morning sunshine.

Lafayette finally groaned in exasperation, apologizing quickly to Madison who simply nodded in understanding and grabbing Hamilton by the wrist, ignoring how he continued to spit insults at Jefferson's general direction even being as he was being dragged away from the balcony where a crowd was starting to form, back into the party hall that they had left merely five minutes earlier to take a photo before a certain _someone_ had to go and start yet another argument.

" _Mon ami_ , I did not drag you out here to fight people - you are here to take a break and enjoy summer vacation like you are meant to!" Lafayette deposited Hamilton into a chair at a table comfortably further away from Jefferson's, despite Hamilton's squirming and insistent whining. "We literally have just arrived and you are already making a scene. You are disturbing the guests, or did you not notice?" Lafayette chastised in a hushed but firm whisper, much like a mother would do to her child.

Hamilton opened his mouth to argue but Lafayette would have none of it.

"No 'buts'. Now sit down, shut up, and enjoy the catering. The Schuylers were kind enough to provide for this celebration, and if nothing else you are going to eat and appreciate the food. Heaven knows how you are still alive with that poor habit of cup noodles for meals every goddamned day."

"It's not _my_ fault Costco knows their marketing tactics. Twenty-four cups for under ten bucks, Laf, just imagine how much time I've saved microwaving instead of cooking, and at a discount too because obviously I'm consuming all of them with none being put to waste, opposed to buying singles for a buck every time-"

"Stop, stop it! Alexander, I will remind you once more that we are here today to have _fun_." Lafayette sighed, looking away for a moment to greet a friendly face before turning back to Hamilton. "Since you love to talk so much, why not go and mingle? You do not have many friends, and it would be nice to meet some new people, _non_?"

"You're just saying that because you wanna hit up the French girls," Hamilton protested, not missing a beat.

"And so what if I am? I am not the only one who is reliable with the ladies," Lafayette winked, and the Frenchman's overflowing charisma finally got to Hamilton as they both grinned, shared a not-so-discreet fistbump.

"Fine. _Fine_. I'll go talk to people. But," Hamilton said before Lafayette could have the chance to run off, "if you find someone, you better give me her friend's number."

"What if she has a sister?"

"Or her sister."

"Deal. 'Till we meet again, Alexander."

* * *

"Cake?"

Hamilton looked up from his phone, startled to find a human attempting to make contact with him. His attempt to mingle hadn't lasted very long because he had quickly come to realize that most people here were like Jefferson: rich and _obnoxious_. There was that guy who couldn't ever talk without consulting his wife first, another who just could not stop talking about the amount of property he owned... Even though he had attended at Lafayette's invitation, Hamilton found himself regretting the decision more and more with each lasting minute he was forced to act like he was busy texting (Lafayette had specifically asked him ever-so-demandingly to 'leave the work at home').

The server smiled politely, so politely in fact that Hamilton felt bad for having ignored him even if it was just for a second. What a decent-looking man; and here he was just staring at his phone wasting his time and probably coming off as a rude poor guy which was probably even worse than being a rude rich guy - my God this was why he preferred to just stay at home or the library during the weekends getting ahead on work instead of coming to such high-priced social events where in the first place he didn't even _belong_...

"Oh, pardon. Did you already have some?"

Crap. He did THAT again.

"No, no! I didn't. I'll have some. Thanks, uh…" He glanced at the nametag on the man's sharp black suit. "Mr. Burr."

The man raised his eyebrow for a brief second, so quickly that Hamilton wasn't sure if he had just imagined the look because the well-practiced smile soon adorned the server's features once again.

"Here you are, sir."

Burr placed in front of him a small paper plate carrying a plastic fork and a slice of rainbow-colored pastry, a piece of strawberry near the top.

"Thank you." Hamilton smiled his gratitude and the server left to offer more slices to guests at the other tables. He had already spent the first half hour at the food tables taking advantage of the quality meals he'd never get to buy on his own (at least not with his own wallet) - but, well, there was always room for dessert. He might as well take Lafayette up on his offer and try as much of the cuisine as he was allowed.

And thank God he did, because that cake tasted pretty amazing.

By the time he finished (which was, admittedly, pretty quick), Lafayette had floated over to some faraway table to chat with another coworker, and only a couple of strangers were left seated at the table across from Hamilton. He glanced around; guests were now lining up at the makeshift photo booth, holding up silly accessories and decorations in front of a vividly-colored backdrop.

He shifted his attention to the grassy hills outside. As it was, today was one of Lafayette's coworker's birthday - some rich young lady by the name of a popular drink, always with her two older sisters in the picture slideshow that was projected up on a large screen at the front of the hall. It also happened to be someone's wedding, a separate event in the same venue, evident in the many guests dressed in suits roaming around near the area. A photographer followed the bride and groom across the balcony, kids boredly clinging to their respective parents as they walked a few steps behind.

The day was still young, early afternoon sun streaming through the windows and _what a beautiful day to go home and finish that school funds' use awareness essay,_ Hamilton thought with a silent grumble as he stared out the glass wall. It seemed like the bride had finished her walk, because the families in suits no longer stood around, but rather gathered at the gazelle a long ways below.

And that's when he saw it. A rather well-dressed boy wandering outside on the balcony (his freckles weren't difficult to see despite him being several tables and a thin wall away), outside the clear glass that, from the outside, didn't seem see-through at all. Wrong. He was about to make the same exact mistake Hamilton had. He figured it was none of his business but God wouldn't let him just stand by and watch another victim fall prey, right? Out of pure obligation Hamilton sighed and stood from his seat to help save the stranger from embarrassment - he had to play the guardian angel sometimes, too. Who knows, maybe that's what the universe intended? Was fate trying to set him up with someone? If so… well, that'd be pretty miraculous.

The suit gave away that he was probably part of the wedding group, but the kid seemed lost - Hamilton figured he could at least entertain him for a bit, then he'd send the boy back on his merry way.

"Hey," Hamilton called out, as politely as possible but still unable to keep the rough edges in his practiced-speech-and-debate voice from betraying him. "Are you alone?"

"Huh?" He looked bewildered for a moment, then scrambled to his senses and stood up straight. "Uh, yeah." The still-unknown boy cleared his throat. "Hi," he added, a bit awkwardly to boot, Hamilton found himself thinking wryly.

"Y'know the glass is clear? Everyone can see you from the inside." He smiled so as to make the blow less painful and opened the door to the venue. "Come in. Unless you wanted to be the star of the show?"

The boy's ears flushed red as he blinked, but at Hamilton's cheeky grin his shoulders visibly relaxed, some of the tension seeming to have finally left him. "Oh… oh. I see. Thank you," he called out a little louder than before, finally realizing the other's intentions. Hamilton chuckled seeing the boy's expressiveness after figuring out Hamilton wasn't a _total_ weirdo and nodded to the inside of the room. The boy followed suit shortly, mumbled a thanks while Hamilton held the door open and they both entered.

"Wow…"

"Don't worry, you fit right in. I mean, they let _me_ in here, so."

The boy laughed, smile reaching his eyes and Hamilton couldn't help but look, at how soft his features seemed, yet how his eyes held something of raw confidence. "What's the occasion? And dress code?"

"Birthday party, and semi-formal. Basically, dress up if you want but no one'll judge if you don't. Hence," Hamilton gestured up and down at his own hoodie and jeans, " _this_ sexy combo."

He laughed again, this time dropping a hand casually on Hamilton's shoulder. "Well, thanks for saving me back there. I owe you one, man." He met Hamilton's eyes after taking a second to catch his breath. "John Laurens."

"Alexander Hamilton. And you, Mr. Laurens, are in the place to be." Quickly getting comfortable with his new friend, Hamilton wrapped an arm around Laurens's shoulder and made a grandiose gesture with his other to the air around them. "2017, a summer's ball, sponsored by none other than the Schuyler sisters. Finger foods and desserts-way-too-tiny-to-fill-you-up galore. And of course, your host, an unbelievably attractive 19 year old."

"Oh, how I am flattered. But Mr. Hamilton, you aren't too bad yourself." Laurens grinned as Hamilton turned around to elbow him, mock-pouting.

It was at that point that the actual host of the party, a man by the name of Mulligan who had been hired to keep watch of the event, went up to the podium at the front of the hall to gather everyone's attention.

"Alright, who's ready for a round of bingo?" he called out through the microphone, earning a helpful cheer from Lafayette which then sparked some more interest from the audience when he started listing the prizes.

Laurens turned to his new friend with a mischievous grin. "May I challenge you to a bingo duel, good sir?"

"Oh, you are _on_." Hamilton returned his grin, but then followed it up with a comment that left Laurens only a little puzzled, more than a little hopeful. "But I think I've already won."


	2. Laurens, I Like You a Lot

**Chapter Two**

"Alexander, are you sure we're allowed to get this much food?" Laurens questioned, but his tone was light as he barely suppressed a laugh; he couldn't help feeling like a schoolboy who had just gotten away with something wrong, even if it was just an extra plate of pastries.

"God, Laurens, you are one conscientious man," Hamilton replied, picking up an almond cookie from Laurens's plate (which was filled with different varieties Hamilton himself had picked out for Laurens) and stuffing it in his mouth. "I admire your strong moral compass, but seriously, don't worry. Live in the present and make the moment last, am I right?"

Hamilton nudged him in the side and Laurens grinned, taking a mini muffin for himself. He decided to keep quiet on the tinge of joy he felt hearing the other already figuring out the puzzle pieces of his character, without Laurens even acknowledging it in words. "Aren't you always?"

"Only usually," Hamilton winked, leaving the half-eaten cookie between his teeth to make finger guns. Laurens couldn't help the happiness that was bubbling up inside of him, slowly but surely, just being in the presence of another man who so easily accepted him despite them having just met.

"We'll see if your statement stands even after meeting the great John Laurens." He picked up his bingo card, the first box filled with stamps so close to being enough but not quite there and waved it around, Hamilton's eyes following like a cat's to a ball of yarn. Hamilton had been less lucky in the first game.

"Oh, pish posh. Beginner's luck," Hamilton said with a ghost of a pout, which just made Laurens's eyes crinkle in amusement at the other's almost childlike honesty toward wanting to win. Hamilton tore his eyes from the card and stared straight into Laurens' instead. "I'm gonna win this time, just you wait."

And he did. He stared fondly into Hamilton's eyes, dark pools of mystery yet full of life, so _alive_ , so attentive, and Laurens could only wonder how the world looked through such orbs that seemed so calculating, like every movement was conscious and controlled by the mastermind that could only be none other than Alexander Hamilton.

It had been a while since he'd felt such freedom, such ease just being himself around another person instead of feeling the need to please them. Wasn't that why he was here, in the first place?

An image of the wedding suddenly flickered into Laurens's mind. The wedding he had snuck out of. He remembered the suffocating air just being with his father who had so many and such high expectations. He remembered the hopeful glances from his mother, the knowing looks he got from the other guests. He remembered why he had to escape. And he remembered what consequences he would inevitably face if he didn't at least try to get back before his family took notice. But why couldn't he stay, when being here, at this party instead, felt more right than that wedding ever could? And here there was someone else, someone who knew nothing of him yet took him in so unconditionally…

"John?"

Laurens snapped back into the present, eyes widening as he sucked in a breath. Damn, did he seriously just lose himself in Hamilton's eyes? How long had he been staring? Had it been too obvious? He almost wanted to smack himself but at the same time was in mild awe of how the cliches he used to snort at were finally making sense to him, for the first time becoming relevant in his own life.

"Sorry. What?" he managed to get out.

"Oh, good, you remember your first name at least. What were you thinking about? Actually, nevermind, tell me later. Aren't you playing? They started the second round already. I mean, I _could've_ let you keep spacing out but this is between us. I wanna win the game fair and square. B6," Hamilton added in silent amusement as he watched Laurens scramble to refocus his attention onto his bingo card and stamp the squares he had missed.

"Thanks," Laurens mumbled almost inaudibly, clearing his throat behind his hand in a weak attempt to draw attention away from the light blush that was dusting his cheeks. Luckily (or unluckily) for him, Hamilton remained oblivious to the fact as he had already returned to boring holes into Mulligan from across the room, hands itching to stamp, foot tapping the floor in anticipation. Laurens couldn't help but wonder if Hamilton was already used to being compared to puppies - he certainly was wagging his metaphorical tail like one. Would he like that?

"Mother-"

"Whaaat-"

"-stick," Hamilton cursed in unison with some poofy-haired man a few tables away after Mulligan announced a combination.

Well, maybe an angry puppy, but still a puppy because he is _still damn cute,_ Laurens thought unabashedly as he propped up an elbow on the table in front of them, cheek leaning on one hand.

The rest of the game went on relatively peacefully, and Laurens only noticed Hamilton making swatting gestures to someone across the room a couple times before opening his mouth to ask, "Who are you talking to?"

Hamilton made a shooing gesture to the stranger away again before answering. "Lafayette. See, over there with that all-knowing bun? That's where he hides all his secrets."

Laurens exhaled in what could be considered a laugh - his breath had caught in his throat after Hamilton leaned in close to him for a better angle. "Yeah. I see. Are you guys friends?" He waved good-naturedly at the Frenchman, who smiled broadly and blew both of them an air kiss in return.

"Yeah, but watch out. Laf can turn into a mom friend pretty quick when he wants to, if you know what I mean."

"So he likes to dote on you."

Hamilton scoffed, but in contrast his features remained warm, fond even. "Uh, yeah, if you wanna put that much sugar on it. I think a more accurate word would be 'meddling', though. He's a meddler. He's just making fun of me because I didn't wanna go to this party but he said I should make friends, and I wasn't planning on humoring him but hey, it happened anyway." He paused, then turned to face Laurens. "Wait, we are friends, right? Shit, sorry, I tend to get ahead of myself sometimes-"

"No, you're good," Laurens cut him off much to Hamilton's relief. "I do consider you a friend."

"Oh. Okay. Good," Hamilton said with a nod, just a hint of a smile playing on his lips, but inside there was something new growing, a kind of happiness he hadn't known before this moment that threatened to make itself felt, even if Hamilton himself didn't know how to acknowledge it. "Good. Lafayette'll be glad. I mean, not that I'm not glad, too, I am. Thanks," Hamilton muttered hastily to stop the train wreck before it could get any worse and ran a hand through his hair.

Well, it was too late for Laurens to back out now, Hamilton thought wryly. He hoped Laurens didn't mind the word vomit because now he actually had a reason to hope.

* * *

"Aaaaand the last prize goes to… 1-8-1-"

"7-4-6, 7-4-6," Hamilton mumbled to himself over and over like some kind of mantra.

"-7-4-6!"

" _HELL YES!_ " Hamilton exclaimed and, in the excitement of the moment, stood up instantly to pull Laurens who was sitting beside him into a side hug, earning a few cheers from the guests in addition to the obligatory polite applause.

"Congrats, Alexander. Finally," Laurens chuckled, still holding close to his chest the stuffed turtle he had won in the third (and last) bingo game. Hamilton had been sulking but, much to Laurens' relief, finally went back to his usual self after winning the last raffle prize.

The look on Hamilton's face when he returned from redeeming his prize from Mulligan was not what he had expected.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Hamilton huffed. "Said the only prize they had left was this. Here, you can have it. Suits you better anyway." He threw a small object to Laurens and Laurens caught it with one hand, staring curiously down at the prize sitting on his palm.

"Oh my God."

"You're welcome." He could practically hear the proud grin in Hamilton's voice.

"Alex! This is great, thank you," Laurens all but shouted in happy celebration, leaping into the other's arms as if using the opportunity as payback for earlier. He wrapped his own arms around Hamilton's neck and Hamilton stumbled backwards but accepted the surprise hug. "I can call you Alex, right?"

Hamilton waved a hand dismissively, though the action was a tad difficult due to the other's still-too-tight embrace. "Yeah, whatever you want. It's no ten dollar gift card to Starbucks, but this is pretty good, too."

"I'll treasure it forever."

Hamilton laughed, rich and genuine, music to Laurens' ears. "It's just a keychain."

"A _lucky turtle_ keychain. Now I can have one with me wherever I go _and_ be blessed by its magical powers."

"Sentimental. Yet endearing," Hamilton mused, and Laurens finally pulled away, and - _oh, that warmth was actually pretty nice, when would he be able to feel it again?_ \- for the first time Hamilton was able to see the sparkles of the metaphorical stars in Laurens' eyes, and - _he put those stars there, Alexander did, oh God, what feeling was this? Well, no matter, now_ this _was something worth treasuring -_ the rush of emotion washed over both of them, quietly on the outside but their racing heartbeats said otherwise.

"Um," Laurens began, reluctantly breaking away from the moment and tucking the small keychain into his pocket. With his other hand he held out the stuffed turtle he had been cuddling just moments ago and pushed it toward Hamilton's chest. "Since you gave me that… well, you can have this. I mean, you didn't get anything else, so… just something to remember me by, y'know?" He grinned sheepishly, and Hamilton couldn't tell if he was doing that cute thing with his eyelashes on purpose or not.

"To remember you? Do you have to leave?" Hamilton asked with mild surprise, accepting the gift without much thought, mind elsewhere.

"Well, yeah, sort of. You see, I actually-"

The familiar sound of a phone buzzing cut him off, and Laurens glanced quickly at the screen still on the table, cringing slightly when he saw his father's contact blink obnoxiously.

"I have to go," Laurens said after some hesitation, eyebrows furrowed like he was being forced to say it. "I'm not really supposed to be here. But thank you for letting me stay, Alexander. I had fun, really."

But Hamilton just laughed lightly, all too oblivious to Laurens's predicament. "You make it sound like the carriage waiting for you is gonna turn into a pumpkin any minute. Or your suit's gonna transform into a bunch of mice. Come on, Laurens, tell me where you're going. I'll come with. Laf won't mind. The goal was to socialize, get out of my comfort zone. Think I've accomplished that and with flying colors, if I do say so myself."

Before Laurens could respond Hamilton was already gathering his things, cleaning up their area on the table and getting ready to head out. Laurens couldn't find it in him to part with the other and so he simply offered to throw away their trash while Hamilton went to shoot Lafayette a text saying that they'd be leaving.

Lafayette texted back with a simple _don't stay out too late_ and a winky face emoji, catching Hamilton's eye and wiggling his French eyebrows all too knowingly. Hamilton rolled his eyes in jest and turned back to Laurens.

"Ready to go?"

"Whenever you are."

The two of them headed for the exit and Hamilton whipped around one last time to face the remaining guests, cupping his hands around his mouth to use as a makeshift megaphone as he shouted.

"Peace out. And happy birthday, Peggy!"


	3. I'll Be Around For You

**A/N:** So I've decided that I'm just gonna make this story the cliche-est of cliches since it already has so much cliche and cliche is what I'm most familiar with. Basically your typical shoujo plot. Now, without further ado…

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

"So, Mister Turtle Lover, where are we headed?" Hamilton asked brusquely as the pair descended the grand, gold-painted stairs that stretched downward into the front entrance hall.

Laurens frowned. "That's the thing. I told you, I wasn't supposed to be here. My parents aren't going to be happy, to say the least." He sighed and raked a hand through his curls that up until now had been tucked neatly into a ponytail.

"Oh, shit." Hamilton stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing Laurens who had previously been trailing closely behind to bump into the other man.

"Ow! What the heck, Alex-"

"You did _not_ skip out on your own wedding. Crap, I hadn't even considered the possibility but it's so obvious - does that make me your partner in crime? Am I gonna be considered an accomplice now? I'm too young to die, John, there's so much I haven't even-"

"No, God no! I wasn't the one getting married!" Laurens waved his hands in front of himself defensively, inwardly cringing at the thought. "Jeez, Alex, it's way too early for that! How old do you think I am?"

Hamilton tapped his chin like he understood and was backtracking on the idea, then smirked. "I dunno, you seem like the type to be a hopeless romantic."

"Oh my God." An audible facepalm.

"Okay, okay. But then why would your parents care if you ditched? Not your wedding, and weddings get boring. It's really not anything new. You got some batshit overprotective family members or something?" He had meant it as a joke but frowned when he saw the defeated look on Laurens' face. "Fu- did I jinx it? _Fuck_. Sorry, John, I didn't know. That sucks."

"I mean, it's not all that bad." Laurens rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed now in spite of himself but relieved that his situation was near-painlessly (albeit accidentally) brought out into the open. "It's just- they wanted me to stay with them, just for the summer. I didn't really have a good excuse not to, so I… I told myself I'd put up with it, since it's just for a couple months anyway."

When Hamilton didn't say anything Laurens exhaled sheepishly. "Clearly I'm- I'm not exactly doing a great job." A bitter chuckle.

Silence ensued for a couple moments.

"...I think you're doing a fine job," Hamilton offered slowly, weirdly enough, in a higher octave than normal. Laurens looked up and all the tension left him, replaced with a mixture of amusement and irritation at the assumption that Alex didn't seem to be taking his situation as seriously as he had thought. Fortunately, it was more the former.

Hamilton's mouth was hidden behind the stuffed turtle he was now holding up in front of himself, making it so that the turtle was speaking.

"I think John Laurens is a fine young man and shouldn't be afraid to try and grab hold of the freedom he wants. It's great that he thinks of his family so highly but the man's gotta prioritize his own ideals sometimes, too. Ain't that the truth, Hamilton?"

Hamilton broke out of character to answer himself in his normal, if not speech-and-debate voice he'd unconsciously use whenever he got caught up with himself. "Hell yeah, Mister Turtle, sir. And you know what? People can take and take all the shit they want, but what they can never take away is a person's thoughts, feelings, values - they can take all your belongings and strip you of every physical thing you own but one thing you'll always be in control of is your mind." Hamilton started making big gestures with his free hand, practically shedding charismatic passion all over the place. "How you see things, what colors you decide to paint the worlds in your head with. It's yours alone, no matter what anyone else tells you. Your thoughts, your morals - those can't be restricted. No one can keep you down by making you think a certain way. You're your own fucking person to build up and goddamn it, Laurens, you've built yourself up. Don't stress so much because you're physically limited. Your feelings can never be because they're _yours_. You only have one life. Stand up for what you believe in and own it like a boss."

Somewhere along his mini rant Hamilton had shifted away from the stuffed toy and to Laurens, eyes sparkling with a familiar passion, and it finally clicked when Laurens came to realize that that fire matched his own.

If Laurens hadn't already, he found himself helpless with growing admiration for the man in front of him, and he was temporarily shocked into silence. But it was the good kind, like having just witnessed a shooting star. Hell, he would've taken Hamilton over the shooting star any day.

He was only able to blink back into reality when Hamilton broke the silence with an awkward chuckle, taking hold of Laurens's wrist. "Sorry. I talk too much, but I meant that. Be happy to give you the speech again whenever, just ask - if you want an extended version too feel free to hit me up, but anyway, come with me? I have an idea," Hamilton rambled on without pausing for Laurens's answer (which wasn't much of a problem because Laurens didn't have much to say anyway) as he led them outside of the venue. When they stood in front of the entrance, Laurens could only internally whine as Hamilton let go of his wrist to pull out a phone from his pocket, an old iPhone 4.

"Holy shit," Laurens whispered to himself under his breath, but Hamilton's ears perked up in response anyway.

"Calling a cab," Hamilton whispered right back.

Laurens was about to ask what for but was sidetracked by his more prominent surprise at Hamilton's phone. "Dude, that thing's ancient."

"Makes calls just fine," Hamilton protested, and was just about to launch into a rant about how people needed to be smarter with their money when it came to the absurd amount of new iPhone releases in such short periods of time when his call got through. He immediately straightened up. "Hello? My friend and I are at…"

Laurens hummed in approval at his being addressed to as a friend, absentmindedly wondering if there'd ever come a day when that title would change. Well, he was getting ahead of himself for the time being, and he decided to just be content with what he had gotten. It was certainly more than he could have hoped for.

Hamilton ended the call and was fiddling with his phone when Laurens forced himself back into his present situation.

"Hey, what's the deal? Are we going somewhere?"

"Just gonna sneak out for a bit. Nothing illegal," Hamilton added with a reassuring chuckle. "The birthday party's basically over so there's no harm. You looked like you wanted to get away. When does your wedding start? I think they were still doing a photoshoot earlier."

"Around evening," John replied, albeit a little guilty now thinking about it. "I was supposed to help, though."

Right, priorities. His family. He certainly didn't want to have to face the wrath of his father. He wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

But leave Hamilton? It'd be like finding a hundred bucks on the ground and just stepping around it. Laurens wasn't an idiot.

So he reluctantly pulled out a sleek iPhone (much nicer and several versions newer than Hamilton's) and clicked the screen on, watching as a new text message popped up (alongside several others) from one of his siblings - something about how Laurens was taking too long in the restroom, if he was okay, where was he, did he get lost because the venue was pretty large.

Laurens felt a rush of adrenaline as he was suddenly struck with an idea - pretty cliche of an excuse, but it'd work since his family already considered the possibility anyway. Newly motivated, Laurens scrolled to his contacts and hit the call button for his sister. Hamilton peeked over his shoulder curiously, obviously wanting to listen in.

"Hello?" The person on the receiving end picked up.

"Martha! Hey," John started, gently elbowing Alexander who wasn't even trying to hide his attempts to hear the conversation.

"Bro!" A younger voice cut in from the other end, which Martha unsuccessfully tried to push away.

"For Christ's sake, Jack, we thought you died."

"Bro, can you hear me? Daddy says you're helping with the wedding but somewhere else, where though because I can come help- Martha!"

"Sorry, Hen is is insufferable," Martha spoke, apparently haven taken away the phone from the younger sibling. "But seriously, where are you? You're the one who's the strongest and you just left us behind to do all the legwork. We're setting up the tables right now."

"Daddy's getting his picture taken with the people getting married!" Henry Laurens Jr. added.

"That's great, guys. Listen, I ran into someone who was lost, and I'm just helping them find their way back." Hamilton grumbled at this but otherwise kept quiet, much to Laurens' relief. "They, uh- it's such a big place. I think they might be in the wrong wing, too."

"Did you show them the map?" Martha suggested sensibly. Laurens winced.

"I, uh… He got lost with the map. He's just a kid."

"Like me! Don't worry, my big bro'll help you," Henry piped up from the background.

Hamilton was throwing him a death glare now but Laurens continued, albeit with a bead of sweat running down his forehead. "Yeah. I'm gonna help him. It might take a while, though. He's- He's so little. Won't stop crying." Couldn't resist.

Hamilton made as to step on Laurens' foot but Laurens spun around just in time to avoid him. "So, uh, can you tell Dad that I might be a little late? I'll be back in time for the wedding, though."

Martha made an unconvinced noise but nodded anyway, although Laurens couldn't see her. "Fine. Promise you'll be back?"

"Promise."

"And you'll call me again later?"

"I'll call you again later if my phone doesn't die."

"Jack, seriously."

"I'm being serious-"

"Your brother's going on a little trip but I'll send him right back to you when we're done okay bye," Hamilton called out in a non-stop flurry and jerked his head toward the phone in a silent _end the call before she starts asking questions again_ command when Laurens just stared at him in surprise. John fumbled to move the phone away from his ear and hastily punched the 'end call' button before narrowing his eyes at Hamilton.

"Really, Alexander?"

"You were taking too long!" Hamilton held his hands up defensively. "Look, the cab's already here. Didn't wanna make them wait and have to pay more than necessary."

Sure enough, a cab had pulled up some odd feet away at the curb in front of the venue entrance. Well, at least Alexander had a valid point. Laurens wasn't sure he could've stopped himself from strangling him otherwise.

Alexander tilted his head, a disarming smile playing on his lips that seemed to say, 'Forgive me?'

Laurens sighed and stuffed his phone back into his pocket before starting toward the cab, turning his face away so that at the very least Hamilton wouldn't see how he had already softened. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds. "Don't worry about it. I'll pay."

Either Laurens was guilty of being a huge softie or Hamilton had put him under some kind of spell. Shit, what kind of sorcery was Laurens dealing with here? Must be powerful stuff…

"So why did you leave in the first place?" Hamilton asked, trailing behind. When Laurens answered with only a confused look, Hamilton rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The wedding thing, I mean. Why did you stay behind?"

"I didn't exactly try to leave," Laurens shrugged. "I don't know. I was planning on heading back later. I just… needed some time to myself."

Alexander nodded, remembering how he had spotted him on that balcony.

"Sorry I just went and ruined your alone time."

"No - it's okay," Laurens corrected him, a little too quickly. "I didn't mind. I _don't_ mind-this. Thank you, for doing this." He put on a smile hastily, but it was real, sweet even. Hamilton wondered in spite of himself if it was possible for Laurens to be any cuter.

"That's good. I don't mind it, either." They reached the cab and Hamilton thoughtfully unlocked the car door for Laurens before going around to climb in on the other side. Before John could ask what his plan was, Hamilton was already barking out an address to the driver - Laurens wasn't entirely familiar with it, but it didn't sound like anything weird like a back alley so he didn't oppose.

The two settled in until they were comfortable in their respective seats while the driver put on some soft country music, which Laurens didn't mind but Hamilton, frankly, just felt awkward with.

"So what's his name?" Hamilton spoke up, itching for conversation to distract him from the music. "The turtle, I mean."

Laurens shrugged. "He's yours now. You should name him."

"I'm only the adoptive father," Hamilton pointed out. "You're the original. The prequel before the series. The cast recording before the remix. The invention before the-"

"Okay, okay! I get it," Laurens laughed out loud and grabbed the toy from where Hamilton was offering it, setting it down on his lap. "Uh, let's see. Since you're the reason I got him in the first place, I'll name him… Alek."

"What? No way," Hamilton said, blatantly failing to hide the amusement and - was that a hint of pride or something else? - in his voice. He reached over for the stuffed turtle to get a better look and placed it in between them.

"I dunno, John, he looks more like a-" Hamilton picked the first name that came to mind, "-an Anthony to me. We could call him Tony for short."

Laurens frowned, in stark contrast to the turtle's permanent, fabric smile.

"Nah. He looks more like an Alek. He has your eyes."

Now it was Hamilton's turn to frown. "I do not have beady little eyes."

Laurens gasped in mock offense and covered Alek's head where his ears would be if turtles had visible ears. "Don't listen to him, Alek. He didn't mean that. Your eyes are perfect."

He started fussing over the stuffed turtle, actually finding himself a little attached to it now instead of just pretending when he felt Hamilton move in close, way too close, and when he turned around to ask what Hamilton's deal was being all up in his personal space, he was all too quickly met with dark, unbearably dark brown orbs that were staring up at him intensely and suddenly Laurens found himself unable to get any words out.

And if Hamilton noticed this, well, he didn't show it because he didn't poke fun at how Laurens had gone silent because of him, didn't call him out on how he just stared right back instead of looking away from Hamilton's piercing gaze.

"So you think my eyes are perfect?" He asked, low and husky. Laurens couldn't tell if it was suggestive or questioning or if all of this was just a joke that he didn't know how to play along with and was taking way too seriously.

"I, uh… I…" He stammered lamely.

"Hmm?"

Laurens gulped and finally turned away, now sweating bullets, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least _try_ to make it look like he was uncomfortable with the current arrangement. Well, he was uncomfortable alright, but for entirely different reasons.

"Y'know what? Never mind. You're right, he doesn't have your eyes. Alek is _much_ cuter."

Hamilton fortunately let up, seemingly satisfied with the reaction he had gotten. He moved back away and Laurens let out an internal sigh of relief. "He might be cuter but I'm _at least_ ten times more attractive. Alek's got nothing on this top notch brain."

"You never back down, do you, Alexander?"

"Nope," Hamilton admitted. "And you do?"

Laurens grinned, but they both knew the answer to that.

Needless to say, the debate over Alek continued for nearly the rest of the ride, country music forgotten.


End file.
